Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Nobel Prize, stand-up redemptions, comforting reminders of home

I thought I'd start with this wonderful quote from recent Nobel Prize winnner, and playwrite Harold Pinter.

'There are no hard distinctions between what is real and what is unreal, nor between what is true and what is false. A thing is not necessarily either true or false; it can be both true and false.'

Harold Pinter, 2005 Nobel Prize, Literature (quoting himself)

Below is a poem by Harold Pinter titled "Death."

Where was the dead body found?
Who found the dead body?
Was the dead body dead when found?
How was the dead body found?
Who was the dead body?
Who was the father or daughter or brother
Or uncle or sister or mother or son
Of the dead and abandoned body?
Was the body dead when abandoned?
Was the body abandoned?
By whom had it been abandoned?
Was the dead body naked or dressed for a journey?
What made you declare the dead body dead?
Did you declare the dead body dead?
How well did you know the dead body?
How did you know the dead body was dead?
Did you wash the dead body?
Did you close both its eyes?
Did you bury the body?
Did you leave it abandoned?
Did you kiss the dead body?

Here, in the Arizona outside, teeth-whitener bright, I've returned from my week long trip to Columbus, Ohio. City of my birth, my young life, early experiences I barely remember. Upon each return I find dull pink memories enveloped in gray-glow daylight. Blacklights and the eversmell of cheap beer. This is Columbus for me, this is Bernies, this is High Street, this is South side, this is German Village, Pickerington, East end, Brice Road, Dublin and Dowtown.

And the long lost physical presence of old friends regained. Radio DJ, Shepherding a flock - across the table Engineer under 30 nearly dotting the eyes on his PhD, and long time cohort/distant brother...Kindergarten Teacher in english turning Japanese. These momentary meetings bring me to my knees. Remind me of the microcosm within which I live, and make life big again. Thank you all for your ears, and the sounds of your multi layered voice. (Matt, Obadiah, Daniel)

Today, first day back on the job. Quiet University, returning faculty slowly file in one at a time... socialize and catch up with one another. Today, January 3, my first entry in 2006. I spoke for the first time with friends and family about this strangely hidden and personal online journal I keep. Scissor Circus, which for me has come to refer to the act of piecing together all the parts and snippets of my daily life, with the hope of eventually recalling moments of meaningful direction.

This blog, what started out so small and uncertain, has developed into the only vehicle for quiet contemplation and an outlet for creative and internal reflection.

Scissor Circus, when I'm too busy and moving too fast to keep track of it all, is a place to keep clippings of memory - I have two kids and a wife whom have lives of their own, and intertwinned lives with mine. From which we find our identity. This life, I find, is not my own, but ours to live.

No comments: